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< 







LANTERN STORIES 


By 

LENA LEONARD FISHER 

H 


BEING LITTLE STORIES OF HOW SOME CHILDREN 
WITH THE LIGHT TRIED TO SHOW THE 
WAY TO OTHERS WHO HAD NO LIGHT 




NEW YORK; EATON & MAINS 
CINCINNATI : JENNINGS & GRAHAM 



Copyright, 1913, by 
LENA LEONARD FISHER 



©CI,A346203 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Bear Story 7 

How the Babies Were Saved 16 

The Journey of a Love-Link 22 

A Tale of Two Countries 35 

A “Fourth” Without Fireworks 47 

Tight Money 64 

What the Man from China Said 71 

Two Little Girls and a Doll 88 













FOREWORD 

In no way can the theme of Foreign Mis- 
sions be more effectively lodged in the child 
mind than by the story method. It is in this 
conviction that these flesh-and-blood stories 
for flesh-and-blood children are offered. 

The author’s grateful appreciation is due 
the Woman’s Foreign Missionary Society of 
the Methodist Episcopal Church for permis- 
sion to include among these stories some 
which have appeared in their publications. 


5 





A BEAR STORY 


dolls were very dismal. No one 
^3 could deny it. They had been 
growing more and more so for a 
year. The dismals with dolls are 
just about what measles or whooping cough 
are to children. Dismals make dolls un- 
happy and cross and miserable, and they 
come just when you aren’t looking for them. 
Sometimes, too, they last a great while, 
much longer than measles or whooping 
cough is apt to. They did in this case, and 
they came all on account of what every doll 
in Phyllis’s nursery called ‘'that horrid little 
bear.” 

At first all the dolls thought that the little 
animal, so soft and white, with silky fur and 
shiny black eyes, was nothing more nor less 
than a great, huge joke, and they laughed 
and laughed and laughed over him. 

They even said — at least some of them did 
— that their darling Phyllis looked so cun- 
7 



8 


Lantern Stories 


ning carrying him about with her, and sev- 
eral of them were quite friendly with him 
on different occasions when he happened to 
stray into their corner. 

Teddy, as Phyllis called him, certainiy 
was a pleasant-looking bear, and he had a 
good disposition. He was never known to 
growl or make things disagreeable by 
scratching or clawing. Perhaps it was be- 
cause he was so good and sweet-tempered 
that made Phyllis take to him the way she 
did. Every doll in the nursery began to 
notice it right away, and as day after day 
came and went this feeling of anxiety grew 
into a regular case of the dismals. 

Who could blame the poor things ? There 
was the French doll, Marie, with all her 
lovely clothes. Before that bear came she 
always went out with Phyllis on state occa- 
sions in the dear little ‘'Whitney'’ gocart 
that came from New York at Christmas. 
Now she never went out to get even the 
tiniest breath of fresh air. The whole 
neighborhood of dolls expected as much as 
anything that Marie would lose all the lovely 


A Bear Story 


9 

color from her cheeks and just pine away. 
It worried them dreadfully. 

Then little Florence, the cunning baby doll 
in long clothes, who always went to bed with 
Phyllis every night because she was the 
baby, simply stayed in her own cradle all 
night and all day too. All the older dolls 
said that Florence would never in the world 
be able to sit up alone if she never had any 
exercise, and was just kept lying on her back 
all the time. It was a perfect shame! 

Big Aggie, the dear old stuffed doll, who 
came to Phyllis on her second Christmas, 
and whom she had loved and loved because 
she was so nice and soft and squeezable, was 
heartbroken. Why, Phyllis had thrown Big 
Aggie around and had sat on her, and even 
played ball and most everything else you can 
think of with her until she was five years old. 
And now in her old age, instead of a quiet, 
respectable life, she was tucked into the 
nursery closet, with her head down by the 
patch box, and her feet sticking straight up. 
Big Aggie’s condition was a disgrace, and 
every doll felt so about it. 


lo Lantern Stories 

The rubber doll, Betsy, hadn’t much to 
say. Poor thing ! Phyllis had cut her teeth 
on that doll, and she was so disfigured she 
really couldn’t talk much. But she felt 
dreadfully, you may be sure. 

The two boy dolls. Tommy Tucker and 
Captain Kidd, tried to make the neighbor- 
hood believe they didn’t care if Phyllis didn’t 
pay them any attention. But just the same 
every one of the dolls knew they were as 
upset about it as they could be. In fact. 
Tommy was found under the table flat on his 
face with his hand on his heart, so, of course, 
everyone knew he did care. 

There were several other dolls who had 
never moved in the higher circles of the 
nursery, and no one asked them what they 
thought, but anyone could see by the very 
expression of their faces how they felt. In 
fact, there was not a single doll in the nurs- 
ery who was not suffering acutely from a 
very severe attack of the dismals. And this 
state of things had been going on for a year ! 

In the meantime Phyllis and Teddy were 
perfectly happy, and while one couldn’t help 


A Bear Story 


II 


feeling sorry for the poor, deserted dolls, no 
one could blame Phyllis for loving that cun- 
ning, soft, bright-eyed little white bear. 
Really, all the grown-ups in the family got to 
loving him too. Phyllis never said she loved 
Teddy more than Marie and Florence and 
Big Aggie and the others, but she did say 
that she thought he was '‘kind of alive,” and 
she did love to snuggle him up — "he was so 
much company.” 

Now, Phyllis was only seven, you must 
know, but she belonged to a missionary 
society, and she talked and thought a great 
deal about the missionary who was the chil- 
dren's "very own,” and who lived in a far- 
away country where she was teaching the 
boys and girls to know and love Jesus. A 
wonderful thing was to happen ! A box was 
going to be sent to this missionary — a box 
full of lovely gifts for those other boys and 
girls in the far-away country at Christmas 
time; and all the children, Phyllis among 
them, were to give the things that were to go 
in the box. Such excitement you never 
heard of ! All the mothers and aunties, and 


12 


Lantern Stories 


even fathers and big brothers, began to talk 
about that box, and even ask if they mightn’t 
put something in too. 

But one day Phyllis came home from her 
missionary meeting looking very sober. She 
went straight upstairs and got Teddy (for, 
of course, she couldn’t have taken him to the 
missionary society), and then sat down in 
her little red chair and thought and thought. 
By and by the secret came out. The lovely 
young leader of the children’s society had 
been telling the children how God loved 
those other children in the far-away country, 
and how he had given his only and much- 
loved Son, Jesus, for them just as much as 
for us. And she wondered if any of her chil- 
dren in the missionary society loved those 
other boys and girls in the far-away country 
enough to send in the box something they 
loved very much — perhaps the toy or play- 
thing they loved the very best. 

Do you wonder that Phyllis looked sober, 
and that she hugged Teddy so tight that 
night that he was actually in danger of 
smothering? 


A Bear Story 


13 

In some way the dolls found it out. How, 
I am sure I don’t know, but that very night, 
when they knew that Phyllis had made up 
her mind to send Teddy in the box, they 
held a regular jollification in the nursery. 
They took hold of hands and danced all 
over the room, to begin with. Even the 
dolls that didn’t move in the high society 
joined in. Captain Kidd strutted about 
with his sword in his belt and his cocked 
hat on, and told some of his most excit- 
ing yarns. Tommy Tucker not only sang 
for his supper, but he sang a great many 
other things. Marie had on a perfect 
dream of a French gown, and she pirouetted 
about on her toes in the most Frenchy style 
imaginable. Some one helped Big Aggie 
out of the corner of the closet, and she sat in 
a comfortable chair, and just beamed, while 
Baby Florence and the Rubber Doll, not 
being able to move about much, looked as 
pleasant as could be. They were so glad 
that '‘horrid little bear” was going abroad 
in the missionary box ! 

But Teddy didn’t go, after all ! The very 


14 Lantern Stories 

day that Phyllis was to carry him to the 
church where the box was being packed, 
Uncle Bob, who lived at Phyllis’s home, said 
that he never could stand it for that little 
white bear to go away. He said if Phyllis 
would let him keep Teddy on this side of the 
water, that he would give her enough money 
to buy two bears just like him, and they 
could go in the box. Phyllis thought a long 
time about it, and at last she decided to make 
the bargain with Uncle Bob. Two bears 
would make happy two children instead of 
one in the far-away country. Uncle Bob 
asked Phyllis if she would look after Teddy 
for him while he was at the office all day. 
And then, of course, he couldn’t be disturbed 
at night, when he was so tired, by a bear 
growling, so Phyllis said she would keep him 
quiet. 

Phyllis gave a grand party in Teddy’s 
honor, soon after the box with the two new 
white bears and ever so many other nice 
things in it, had been sent to the far-away 
country, and all the dolls were invited. And 
the dolls were so delighted, and so excited 


A Bear Story 15 

getting ready for the party, that all the dis- 
mals flew away in a great hurry, and every- 
body was as happy and contented as could 
be. 

And I, one of Phyllis’s dolls myself, 
happen to know that Teddy and all the dolls 
have been the best of friends ever since. 


HOW THE BABIES WERE SAVED 


DEAR, Vm tired of bread and 
milk for supper — I don’t even like 
it if it is from our Jersey Bess — 
and if I do have a blue bowl to 
eat out of — and — and — I don’t care if I do 
have bad dreams when I eat meat for supper 
— I’d rather — ” 

‘‘Why! why! why! What’s the matter 
with our Billy?” Grandma stopped short 
as she opened the door into the dining room 
and looked at “our Billy” perched in his 
chair at the table, his chubby face flushed 
and scowling, while a noise from under the 
table indicated that his naughty little feet 
were busy kicking the rung of his chair. 
The despised blue bowl full of Jersey Bess’s 
very finest sat before him, and Norah was 
vainly trying to get her rebellious little 
charge to eat the usual evening meal. 

“I wonder if you don’t want me to tell you 
a story, Billy?” grandma asked, suddenly, 

l6 




How THE Babies Were Saved 17 

as she noticed the war cloud hovering over 
the small boy with no signs of disappear- 
ance. ‘‘And I'll sit right down and tell you 
while you eat, dearie," she added. 

Billy ran up the white flag at once, for 
you must understand that grandma's stories 
were worth while, and any boy could afford 
a small sacrifice like eating a blue bowl full 
of delicious bread and milk in order to hear 
one. So grandma began. 

“It's a really truly story, Billy dear, and 
it happened in China, a country a great way 
off across the seas. There was no rain for 
a very long time, so the seed which the 
farmers had planted could not grow, and 
after a while the people had eaten everything 
they had to eat in their houses, and every- 
thing which there was to be bought, and 
then there was nothing more for them in 
all that part of the country. There were 
thousands and thousands of fathers and 
mothers and dear little children who were so 
hungry that they stripped the bark off the 
trees and ate grass, and dug up roots to eat 
because they had nothing else, and there was 


1 8 Lantern Stories 

no one to give them anything. They prayed 
to their idols, but, of course, that did no 
good. O, it was dreadful! I can hardly 
bear to tell you, Billy dear, that ever and 
ever so many people, many little boys and 
girls among them, died because there was 
nothing for them to eat. 

“At last many thousands of these poor 
people were gathered together in camps, and 
good people from this country sent money, 
and the missionaries bought food in other 
places and went among the starving ones, 
giving them each a little. Brit, O, there 
were so many to feed that after a while they 
only had a little food left and they didn’t 
know what to do. 

“There were hundreds and hundreds of 
little babies there with their mothers, Billy, 
and many of them were so weak for want of 
food that the missionaries knew that they 
could save the lives of only a few of them. 
They had some condensed milk, but there 
wasn’t nearly enough to feed all the babies. 
At last they decided that it would be better 
to pick out a few who could be kept alive 


How THE Babies Were Saved 19 

with the milk they had until the grain which 
had been planted could grow and the fathers 
could gather the harvest. 

‘‘So the missionaries told all the mothers 
to bring their babies to an old temple near 
by at a certain time and they would pick out 
two hundred of the strongest ones, and try 
to keep them from dying of starvation. 

“On the morning when the mothers were 
to come the missionaries were awakened 
before daylight by a great noise outside the 
wall that went around their yard, and when 
they went out to see what it was they found 
hundreds and hundreds of Chinese mothers 
all carrying babies. There were such 
crowds of the mothers that the missionaries 
could not even get anywhere near the temple 
where they had expected to pick out the two 
hundred babies. Every single mother who 
could reach one of the missionaries just 
begged her to choose her little one and so 
save it from starving. 

“Just think, Billy, how your mother would 
feel if little sister Ruth were dying because 
there was no milk for her 


20 


Lantern Stories 


Billy had begun to look pretty sober by 
this time. He had been listening so hard, 
with his brown eyes fastened on grandma's 
face that the bread and milk in the blue bowl 
was still untouched. 

‘‘Hurry, grandma," began Billy. “Did 
they all die or — " 

“Well, dearie," resumed the teller of the 
story, “you see, it so happened that our good 
Bishop Bashford was there at that awful 
time, trying to help the poor, starving 
people, and when he heard about the babies 
he sent a cablegram about them 'way across 
the seas to our own country — to New York 
— and it was printed in the morning paper 
there the very next day. 

“A man read about those babies, and his 
heart beat so fast when he read that only 
two hundred little ones could be saved if 
there wasn't money sent to buy more con- 
densed milk, and he felt so sorry for them, 
that he told some other men all about it. 
And then these good men said, ‘Let's do 
something to save the temple babies,' and in 
a very few hours the telegraph wire carried 


How THE Babies Were Saved 21 

five thousand dollars to Hsucheofu (for that 
was the name of the place) to buy milk 
enough — not only for two hundred babies, 
but for all the thirteen hundred babies who 
were there. Don’t you think the good mis- 
sionaries were glad, and all the mothers too, 
Billy?” 

Billy’s eyes were shining by the time the 
story came to an end. The war cloud had 
faded entirely out of sight, but all Billy said 
was, 'T tell you, grandma, this blue bowl of 
bread and milk is fine!” 


THE JOURNEY OF A LOVE-LINK 


O begin with, let me tell you that I 
am a doll. I should not think of 
writing about myself if it were not 
for the fact that it is becoming 
very fashionable nowadays for dolls to write 
things. I know one doll over here in India 
who, while she did not write the story her 
very own self, she was written about, and 
that is almost the same thing. 

A good many people imagine that dolls 
can neither talk, nor walk, nor write, nor do 
anything else that people do, but let me tell 
you they are much mistaken. When folks 
aren’t looking at us we can do all kinds of 
things that you ever heard of, and lots of 
other things that you never heard of. But 
that isn’t what I started to tell at all. I’ve 
got a story of me, and I want to tell you 
about it, for it is a good one. 

I am not a native of India, this lovely 
22 



The Journey of a Love-Link 23 

country where I live now. I was born in 
New York city, in the United States of 
America. That is the reason I speak 
English so well. Next to Doll Language, I 
think I like English best. 

There was a very large family of us, and 
then, besides, we had ever so many friends 
and relations. Our neighborhood was very 
select, and nearly everyone we knew was 
really considered quite well to do. 

The great glass house in which our family 
lived was in an enormous shop, the very 
largest in New York, and besides ourselves 
there were other things that belonged to 
Doll Land there. We knew all the animals 
in Noah’s Ark, although we were not on 
intimate terms with them. Several members 
of my grandmother’s family had such un- 
pleasant experiences with dogs and other 
animals of one kind or another, that while we 
never really snubbed the Ark animals, we 
certainly never cultivated their acquaint- 
ance. 

We always liked the mechanical toys very 
much, they were so entertaining and funny, 


24 Lantern Stories 

and kept us all in such good spirits with 
their pranks. 

There was one monkey that we all called 
Mr. Dooley, who was perfectly killing. He 
only needed to be wound up and set down on 
the floor, when oi¥ he would go, heels over 
head, clear to the other side of the room. 
Such violent exercise was enough to make 
him have a rush of blood to the head, but 
he never seemed to mind in the least. No 
matter how often we saw him turn somer- 
saults, every time he did it the whole neigh- 
borhood would go off into a regular fit of 
the giggles. This monkey I got to know so 
well that the many monkeys who live over 
here in India seem quite natural and home- 
like. 

Of course there was no end of other dolls 
besides our own family, and we really had a 
very merry time in our corner of the big 
shop in New York. One of the things we 
dolls liked very much to do was to look out 
through the sides of our big glass house and 
watch the little girls who would come to our 
corner and admire us. We used to pick out 


The Journey of a Love-Link 25 

the one we thought we should like to go with 
and have for our little girl mother. If I do 
say it myself, our family were always chosen 
by lovely people, and are all now very well 
settled, indeed. 

One day three young girls came into our 
neighborhood in the big store and stood for 
a long time in front of our house looking at 
us. We dolls were not much excited, be- 
cause these girls were certainly too grown- 
up to want any of us for themselves, so we 
just smiled at them and remarked to each 
other how pretty they were with their rosy 
cheeks and bright eyes. 

In fact, we were so sure they were not 
going to take any of us that I had entirely 
dismissed the matter from my mind, when I 
was almost plunged into nervous prostration 
to hear the girl with the fluffy yellow hair 
say quite distinctly to the clerk who had us 
in charge, ‘‘We will take that one with the 
dimple in her chin and the blue eyes,’’ and 
she pointed straight at me. It was all done 
in such a hurry that I really had no time to 
so much as say good-by to the different 


26 


Lantern Stories 


members of our own family, let alone the 
neighbors and Mr. Dooley or any of the 
other residents of Doll Land. 

The girl with the fluffy hair carried me in 
a box, and such a chattering as she and the 
others kept up all the way home you never 
heard. I strained my ears to hear what they 
said, but I was wrapped up so snugly in my 
cozy box that I could only occasionally catch 
a word or two. I understood before long, 
though, that I was intended as a gift to some 
little girl whom these girls must have 
thought a great deal of from what they said, 
for they kept squeezing each other’s hands 
every once in a while in the car on the way 
home, and saying, “How perfectly delighted 
she will be!” Whom they meant by “she” 
I couldn’t imagine. 

But that night, when a lot more girls came 
to Katheryn’s house with no end of needles 
and thread and gorgeous things to make 
clothes for me, I found out all about it. 

If I had been thrown all in a flutter when 
I was taken from my home in the great shop, 
how do you imagine I felt when I knew an 


The Journey of a Love-Link 27 

‘^outfit’’ was being made ready for me be- 
cause I was going to India ? 

You may be sure I kept wide awake that 
night listening to all those girls had to say 
about the place where I was going and the 
little mother who was waiting for me there. 
In fact, I pricked up my ears for every bit of 
news I could get about my new mother, for 
you may well understand that I knew all my 
future happiness depended on her. 

I actually thought I should faint when I 
heard one of those pretty girls say that my 
little new mother had been found in the 
street one day almost dead of starvation. 
‘'Starvation’’ is quite a big word, I know, 
and it means something terrible! It means 
that a person hasn’t anything to eat for ever 
so many days and so dies 1 Do you wonder 
that when I heard that I had such a chill I 
nearly fell out of Katheryn’s hands as she 
was trying on my gown ? 

I was greatly relieved, as you may believe, 
at the next thing I heard. One of the girls 
named Helen, a girl with lovely dark eyes, 
began to tell the rest that there were two 


28 


Lantern Stories 


hundred and fifty other girls in the school 
in Baroda where some kind woman called a 
missionary had taken my Hindu mother 
when she found her. 

‘'At least/’ I said to myself, “she is hav- 
ing enough to eat, and she isn’t starving 
now, if she is in a school.” I have not a par- 
ticularly hearty appetite myself, being a doll, 
but, dear me, I should awfully dislike to 
think of a little girl dying because there 
wasn’t anything to eat. 

Of course, I simply can’t remember every- 
thing the girls said that evening, but I found 
out that they were what are called “Standard 
Bearers.” There was to be some kind of a 
big celebration in India — a “Jubilee” they 
called it — and lots of people from the United 
States were going, and among them, Helen’s 
own grandfather, who, from what I could 
understand, was a great man in the Church, 
and wanted people to give lots of money so 
all the little children in India could go to 
school and have enough to eat. 

Helen and all the other girls were sure 
that this “Missionary Secretary,” as they 


The Journey of a Love-Link 29 

called him, would just be tickled to death 
to take me with him as a traveling compan- 
ion on the long voyage, for you have to ride 
on a great ship when you go to India. And 
so it was all arranged. 

But horror of horrors ! When, after sev- 
eral of these evening sewing meetings, I was 
finally arrayed in my traveling gown, hat, 
and coat, and had my suit case and all, with 
my other lovely clothes packed with me in 
the box, the trunk of the Missionary Secre- 
tary had already gone to the dock from 
which the steamer, on which we were to go, 
would start ! 

Helen nearly cried, high-school girl as 
she was, for she was so afraid “Grandpa 
wouldn’t think he could carry that box with 
the doll in it, besides all his other things, all 
the way to India.” 

Imagine my feelings! I felt just like a 
person would who was all ready to start on 
a grand trip like that, only to be told to “take 
ofif your things and stay at home.” 

But just then I heard some one whom 
Helen called “Auntie” tell her that she could 


Lantern Stories 


30 

just cheer up, for she had thought of a 
splendid way out of the trouble. My nerves 
had been keyed up to such a pitch that when 
I heard there was to be a way out, and, after 
all, I was to go, I had a reaction, and fell into 
a sound sleep from which I awoke to hear 
this same "‘Auntie’’ saying: “Here, Helen 
dear, is the steamer rug. Let’s wrap Dollie 
in it, strap it up again, and Grandpa won’t 
be a bit troubled.” And that is what hap- 
pened. 

If I had not had what people call a strong 
constitution, I should have been in a state 
of collapse with all the hustling and bustling 
and crowding and jostling at that dock the 
morning we started. But at last the great 
ship, whose name was Kaiser Wilhelm der 
Grosse, swung off from the dock, out 
through the Narrows of the harbor at New 
York, and then on, on over the great At- 
lantic Ocean. 

I believe Helen’s grandfather was a little 
bit surprised when, upon getting his rug out 
of the strap, he came across me. I think, 
possibly, he had forgotten I was going on 


The Journey of a Love-Link 31 

that trip, for he took the cover off my box, 
and when he saw me lying there sound 
asleep (for my fast and furious life for two 
weeks had nearly worn me out), he never 
even awakened me. He was a gentleman, 
and a very polite one, if he was a Missionary 
Secretary ! 

I have heard it said that a sea voyage is 
very quieting for people whose health is not 
of the best. My health is perfect, but my 
nervous system was nearly shattered by the 
narrow escape I had from having to stay at 
home, so my long rest of four weeks or so 
was just the thing for me. I was as bright 
and fresh as could be, even for a doll, when I 
finally arrived in Baroda, where that girls' 
school was in which my little mother was 
waiting for me. 

About the first thing Helen’s grandfather 
did, after he had got settled where he was to 
stay while in Baroda, was to take the box 
which had me in it, and start for the school. 
He carried the box as if it were very pre- 
cious, and, confidentially, I really believe he 
had grown quite fond of me, and felt rather 


Lantern Stories 


32 

as if he had lost something when he didn't 
have me to look after when he left Baroda, 
and started on his journey again. 

The school itself was a beautiful large 
building — it would have to be to have room 
in it for two hundred and fifty girls, you 
know — and it had the loveliest big veranda 
round it you ever heard of. But the very 
loveliest thing of all was that all the girls, 
with their teachers, were out on this great 
porch to welcome us. I say “us" because I 
was a very important part of the whole occa- 
sion. 

How pretty these girls did look! Of 
course I like American clothes best, for I'm 
an American doll, as I have said. I inwardly 
hoped my new mother wouldn't think it best 
to put Hindu clothes on me. But, anyway, 
all these girls dressed in white that seemed 
to be wrapped about them in a very queer, 
but very becoming, fashion, certainly looked 
beautiful. 

Well, we — Helen's grandfather and I — 
went in and stood at the end of the veranda, 
and Helen's grandfather told the girls all 


The Journey of a Love-Link 33 

about me, and how good I had been on the 
voyage over, not having cried once! As if 
a proper doll like myself would ever cry! 
But that wasn't all. He told them all about 
Helen and Enid and Katheryn and the rest 
of those Standard Bearers, 'way of¥ in New 
York, and how they very often thought of 
these dear girls in the school, and how they 
loved them all, but particularly little Dhuri, 
whom they called their own. He told them 
how the girls had worked very hard to get 
money enough to take care of little Dhuri, 
and how they wanted to keep her in school 
until she was grown up and could go out and 
teach other girls. Then he told the girls why 
all this had come about: that the Standard 
Bearers loved Jesus, and wanted them — 
these other girls — to love him too, and help 
all the people in their country to know and 
love him. 

And now the very best part of the story 
comes in. A very beautiful-looking lady, 
who I afterward learned was one of the 
teachers, brought a dear little girl about 
eight years old, who was very shy and sweet. 


Lantern Stories 


34 

out from among the others, and Helen’s 
grandfather took me out of my box, and laid 
me very tenderly in her arms. O, if you 
could only have seen her as she looked into 
my face! Her great dark eyes shone like 
stars, and her lovely face was all glowing 
and smiling. She didn’t have to learn to be 
a mother — she must have been born one — 
for she cuddled me in a regular motherly 
way, and she patted me, and stroked me, and 
nestled me up against her warm little body, 
until I was just beside myself with joy at 
the thought of having a really, truly little 
girl mother of my own. 

And that night when, hugged up tight to 
my little mother, we were just falling asleep, 
I heard her whisper, just before her dark 
eyes went shut, ‘'They love Jesus, my dear 
one, those Standard Bearers — and so — they 
love me.” 


A TALE OF TWO COUNTRIES 



I 

O, I haven’t any picture cards,” 
and so saying Miss Jean Red- 
mond, in no gentle tone of voice, 
almost slammed the door in the 
face of the little girl who stood outside. 

‘Who ever knows what these children will 
be around asking me for next?” went on 
Miss Jean to herself, as she sat down again 
before the fire, and picked up her knitting. 
“First it’s one thing and then another, and 
why they keep on coming I’m sure I don’t 
know, for I never give them anything.” 
And Miss Jean’s face settled into hard, 
sharp lines that made her look thinner and 
older than she really was — and she wasn’t 
young either. 

Any one of the children belonging to the 
missionary society in the little town of Mont- 
fort could have told Marjory Grey that she 
35 


Lantern Stories 


36 

would better stay away from Miss Jean’s 
house. They knew that if she ever opened 
the door in response to the knock of a child, 
she would shut it again pretty quick. And 
how awfully cross she was! But Marjory 
Grey was a new little girl; that is, she and 
her mother — for the dear father was in 
heaven — had just come to Mont fort, and 
they had taken the little house right next to 
Miss Jean’s because there was just room 
enough in it for two people, and the rent 
was low. 

When the children in the mission band 
were trying to think of something they could 
do to really help the missionaries, some one 
said that sometimes they were glad to get 
pretty picture cards which, after they had 
written Scripture texts upon them, they gave 
the children in the far-away lands, who 
would take them home and show them to 
their fathers and mothers, and that taught 
them about Jesus too. Now, the people in 
Montfort hadn’t very much money, and 
there really seemed so few things that the 
children could do that they were delighted 


A Tale of Two Countries 37 

with the picture-card idea. But when they 
came to look up the cards there seemed to be 
so very few of them even that it was decided 
they would just make a business of collect- 
ing them from the people. That accounted 
for Marjory Grey’s going to Miss Jean’s 
house. For what could be more natural 
than to go to one’s next-door neighbor in the 
quest of such a small favor as a few picture 
cards for the missionaries? 

And after Marjory, with a suspicion of 
tears in her brown eyes, had recovered from 
her surprise — people were not usually cross 
with her, for she was a dear child — and had 
gone out of Miss Jean’s inhospitable yard. 
Miss Jean couldn’t help doing some think- 
ing. 

As she thought she remembered that, 
after all, the children really hadn’t been 
coming to ask her for anything for a long 
time. To be sure, there was no reason why 
they should; she was always so cross, and 
not one of them had ever been inside her 
door ! But she had to admit that she always 
remembered their childish faces for days 


Lantern Stories 


38 

afterward, and once she found herself hum- 
ming a little song she had learned years and 
years before when she and her little brother 
had gone to the village Sunday school to- 
gether. 

Something in Marjory Grey’s face made 
Miss Jean think about her little brother. 
Little brother! Why, he was a man now — 
that is, if he were alive. Miss Jean hadn’t 
set eyes on him for years — never since that 
day, so long ago, when as his older sister 
she had been harsh and severe with him, and 
he had left the home where they two lived 
alone ; nor had he come back. She wondered 
where he was now. 

‘Titure cards,” the little girl had said. 
Something made Miss Jean get up from her 
rocking-chair and start up the broad, old- 
fashioned stairs in the big hall, without even 
noticing that she had dropped her knitting, 
and that the cat had pounced upon her ball 
of yarn and rolled it back of the great 
mahogany sofa on the other side of the room. 
Straight up the stairs briskly walked Miss 
Jean — and not only so, but up the winding 


A Tale of Two Countries 39 

attic stairs as well, never stopping until she 
had reached a certain corner in the darkest 
part of the attic, where, pushed back under 
the eaves of the sloping roof, stood a hair- 
cloth trunk of the pattern of a day long gone. 

Then Miss Jean sat down — right down on 
the floor — and, propping up the lid of the 
trunk, began taking out one article after 
another, handling each one most tenderly. 
First there was a boy’s suit of very much 
worn black velvet; a cap came next; a ball 
that was much the worse for wear; a book 
or two well thumbed, and then a blue box 
with “For a Good Child” on the cover. 

Miss Jean sat very still for a few minutes 
with the blue box in her hand. 

The hair trunk held all that was left of 
“little brother’s” belongings, and not for 
years had the lid been raised. No one would 
have thought the Sunday school cards which 
had lain in the blue box for so many years 
were of much consequence, yet as Miss Jean 
took them from the box and handled each 
one lovingly, the tears which had started 
when she saw the little velvet suit began to 


40 


Lantern Stories 


fall thick and fast. There were grimy finger 
marks on some of them, and on the backs of 
nearly all was written in an uncertain child- 
ish scrawl, “Lawrence Redmond.’’ 

Miss Jean, with the bundle of cards held 
tight in her hands, leaned her lonely old head 
on the little hair trunk, while the memories 
of those far-away days, when she and the 
little brother had trudged away to Sunday 
school hand in hand, came rushing in upon 
her. It seemed so long — so long — since 
then! Everything was changed! Every- 
thing was gone, except the great old house 
and Miss Jean. 

I don’t know just how long she sat by the 
little trunk in the attic that day, but when 
she went down to her knitting again I do 
know that, somehow, there was a different 
look on her face. Some of the wrinkles 
seemed to have smoothed themselves out, 
and her eyes had a love look in them that had 
not been there for many a day. 

The next morning when sweet little 
Marjory Grey, who had nearly forgotten her 
disagreeable experience of the evening be- 


A Tale of Two Countries 41 

fore because she was so glad to be alive on 
such a glorious day, skipped by Miss Jean’s 
house on the way to school, she almost 
jumped when she saw Miss Jean herself 
standing on the broad veranda and heard 
her call to her. Marjory was too polite to 
run away, although for half a minute she 
really wanted to, so she opened the gate and 
walked straight up to where Miss Jean stood 
holding out a parcel done up in white paper. 

'T found that I did have some cards, my 
dear, after you called yesterday,” Miss Jean 
said, rather frightened herself to be talking 
pleasantly to the sweet-faced little girl be- 
fore her. 

‘T found them — in my attic — and won’t 
you please send them to the missionary with- 
out rubbing out the name written on the 
back? It is the name of a little boy I knew 
a long time ago — and — ” 

Miss Jean was nearly crying, and Mar- 
jory couldn’t help feeling sorry — so sorry for 
her, that before either she or Miss Jean 
knew just how it happened her arms were 
about Miss Jean’s neck, and the first childish 


42 


Lantern Stories 


kiss she had known for years had been left 
on her faded cheek. 


II 

You see, this story has to be in three 
pieces, because two pieces of it belong in 
Montfort, U. S. A., where Marjory Grey 
lived, and the other in a big city in Japan 
ever so far away. There isn’t any use to tell 
how all the cards the children gathered up, 
including Miss Jean’s, with the name of little 
Lawrence Redmond written on the back, 
were finally sent ofif to a missionary kinder- 
garten teacher in this same big city in Japan. 

They got there all right, and one day, just 
before the cunning little tots who every day 
crowded the schoolroom were dismissed, the 
pretty young teacher said she had a lovely 
surprise for them. Then she told them 
about the picture cards — how they happened 
to come — and how on every one of them was 
a little verse from God’s Word which they 
must show their fathers and mothers when 
they got home. Of course you know how 
pleased those cute Japanese children were. 


A Tale of Two Countries 43 

And how they went skipping down the 
streets toward home ! 

There was one shy little maid who really 
was a dear — at least so thought a tall soldier 
man in splendid uniform, who happened to 
see her tripping daintily along, stopping 
every minute or two to feel in the sleeve of 
her kimono to see if the precious card was 
surely there. The soldier had seen lots of 
little Japanese girls before, for he had lived 
in Japan in the service of his government for 
a long time, but for some reason he thought 
little Plum Blossom very winsome. So he 
smiled at her with his pleasant eyes, and 
asked her to show him what she looked at so 
often and kept so carefully in the sleeve of 
her kimono — when she wasn’t taking it out 
to look at it. 

And, of course. Plum Blossom, being a 
polite child, handed him the precious picture 
card which the missionary kindergarten 
teacher had given her. The tall man with 
the gold braid on his clothes glanced at the 
little bit of pasteboard in his hand, on one 
side of which were the birds and flowers and 


44 


Lantern Stories 


the Bible verse, and then, without really 
thinking, he turned it over. 

Poor little Blum Blossom was frightened 
nearly to pieces when he looked at her the 
next time, for the color had left his face, and 
he was gazing at some writing on the other 
side of the card. And then he had her by 
the hand, and all in a breath Plum Blossom 
had told about the kindergarten and the 
pretty teacher, and where she got the card — 
while the tall soldier was hurrying her back 
to the mission to see what he could find out 
about that card, for the name he had seen 
written across the back was his own name — 
Lawrence Redmond — written by his own 
hand many years ago, when as a little boy he 
trudged to Sunday school with his sister. 

Ill 

The last piece of the story is a short one 
and it happened a few months after the tall 
soldier had seen Plum Blossom’s picture 
card in Japan. 

The children of the missionary society 
in Montfort were having a thank-offering 


A Tale of Two Countries 45 

meeting at Miss Jean’s house. They could 
hardly have believed it themselves if they 
had sat down to think it over, but Miss Jean 
wasn’t the old, cross Miss Jean any more, 
you see ! This was a dear, lovely, delightful, 
new Miss Jean, and all the children had been 
finding it out ever since Marjory Grey had 
kissed her ! 

Right while the meeting was going on 
somebody opened the hall door and came 
into the parlor. It was a perfectly splendid 
soldier, very straight and tall, who, when 
he saw Miss Jean, strode right across the 
room and took her into his big, strong arms 
and kissed her. Miss Jean only said, ‘'My 
little brother, Lawrence,” and laid her white 
head on his breast and cried. It was very 
queer for Miss Jean to call this splendid 
soldier “little brother,” inasmuch as he was 
a man and not a little boy at all — at least so 
the children thought! 

You have guessed before now how it came 
about. It was Plum Blossom’s picture card 
— and before that Marjory Grey — and be- 
fore that Miss Jean — and before that a little 


Lantern Stories 


46 

brother who wrote his name on the Sunday 
school cards. It was all a regular ^‘House 
that Jack built.” 

Big Captain Lawrence Redmond forgot 
that he had ever been angry with Miss Jean 
when he saw that card Vay off in Japan, and 
as soon as he could arrange things he sailed 
for the homeland, upon which he had not set 
eyes for twenty years. The rest you know. 

That thank-offering is talked of to this 
day, for not only did Captain Redmond lay 
down on Miss Jean’s silver tray, where the 
children laid their mites, enough gold pieces 
to make their eyes shine, but regularly each 
year afterward there came enough more to 
educate and care for a tiny little maid in a 
school in a far-away land. 

And Captain Redmond and Miss Jean 
have often looked into each other’s eyes 
since and said, “A little child shall lead 
them.” 


A ^TOURTH’’ WITHOUT FIRE- 
WORKS 


HE Brownies sat in a dismal row on 
ESI porch steps. I don't mean to 

say that all the Brownies were 
there, for the oldest was a young 
lady who was away at boarding school, and 
the youngest was a small boy who couldn't 
very well be in a row of anything, because 
he never stayed in one place long enough to 
be counted. There were four Brownies in 
between these two, however, and that 
number made a pretty respectable row. 

All the row was dismal. Even the littlest 
Brownie looked dismal when he sat down 
at the end for a minute. He didn't really 
know the reason, but if all the rest looked 
that way, why shouldn't he? 

Margaret, who was at the head of the 
row, had the evening paper in her hand, and 
had been reading aloud from it the sorrow- 
ful news that the Village Council of Brook- 
47 



Lantern Stories 


48 

dale, where they lived, had made a rule that 
there could be no fireworks on the Fourth of 
July. Nobody ever knew of anything dread- 
ful having happened in Brookdale on ac- 
count of firecrackers or skyrockets, beyond a 
few burnt fingers and clothes. In the great 
city, not so very far away, though, there had 
been a terrible fire started by a firecracker 
the year before, in which people had lost 
their lives; so the village fathers of Brook- 
dale decided that the young Americans liv- 
ing within its borders must celebrate in some 
other way. No wonder the Brownies were 
downcast. And there were many other 
Brookdale children who looked the same 
way when they knew about it. I couldn’t 
begin to tell you all they said about it, for 
they were so out of sorts and said such a lot 
of things. 

Of course there were several weeks before 
the Fourth, so everyone had oceans of time 
to think up something to do. But nobody 
could, it seemed, and matters among the 
children of Brookdale were in a desperate 
way. 


A ^‘Fourth’' Without Fireworks 49 

What in the world they would ever have 
done if that lovely missionary aunt of the 
Brownies hadn’t come from the far-away 
country where she lived to visit them, Fm 
sure I don’t know. She was promptly and 
indignantly informed by the Brownies and 
their friends of the rule those heartless and 
inconsiderate village fathers had made about 
the Fourth of July. In fact, Aunt Lucie and 
a whole porchful of boys and girls had a 
long talk about it the evening after she 
arrived. 

Such a chatter you never heard! Every- 
one said everything he could think of, and 
Harry Trumbull finished by saying, 'T sup- 
pose those blessed councilmen think it would 
be patriotic, proper, and all that is necessary 
if we should recite the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence in concert and quietly fold our 
hands for the rest of the day.” Everyone 
looked rather sober when Harry spoke about 
the Declaration of Independence, for they 
weren’t quite sure that it sounded exactly 
reverent. Some of the children even had a 
twinge of conscience as they suddenly re- 


Lantern Stories 


SO 

membered that they hadn't really thought 
much about why there ever was a celebra- 
tion on the Fourth of July. 

It was just here that the missionary aunt 
had a bright idea, and in the lull that fol- 
lowed Harry Trumbull's speech she said, 
‘'In the country where I live the people 
know nothing about the Fourth of July as a 
festival day, and yet many of them know of 
a Declaration of Independence much older 
than the one that was made and signed in 
Philadelphia, in 1776." 

Everyone looked interested, though no 
one really knew just what was meant. 
Adele Brown had sort of an idea, for she 
knew that this dearly beloved missionary 
aunt rarely spoke like that, with that par- 
ticular kind of a look in her eyes, without 
thinking in some way of her work and those 
she loved on the other side of the world. 

"Did you ever happen to think, children," 
Aunt Lucie went on, "that what the Declara- 
tion of Independence did for the American 
colonies in freeing them from bondage to 
another country and its king, the Bible — an 


A “Fourth’' Without Fireworks 51 

older Declaration of Independence I called 
it a moment ago — has done for millions of 
people all over the world? The old Book 
has shown many people living in heathen 
countries, where they are under the bondage 
of idol-worship and all the cruel and terrible 
practices which follow because of it, that 
they can be free from all this. It has told 
them that Jesus died because he loved them 
and wanted to help them throw off these 
dreadful sins and be free.” 

Every boy and girl on the porch was sit- 
ting very still now, and the missionary aunt 
went on, softly : “Many brave soldiers in the 
Revolutionary War died so that what the 
Declaration of Independence stood for might 
come to pass and our nation be free and inde- 
pendent. Many brave men and women — yes, 
and little children too — have died through 
the years for the sake of the old Book. The 
American Declaration had many enemies, 
and very bitter ones, and so has the Book. 
There are stories about it that are as true 
and every bit as interesting as those told 
about the Revolutionary War.” 


Lantern Stories 


52 

''O, Miss Lucie, do tell us some of them,'^ 
came in a chorus. 

But Miss Lucie only smiled and said: 
‘'Now, this is my plan for the Fourth of 
July without fireworks, dears,’' and in less 
time than it takes me to tell it, there was such 
a chattering and buzzing on that porch that 
one would have thought that a whole flock 
of magpies and a swarm of bees had sud- 
denly settled there, if he had not known 
otherwise. 

From that night until the Fourth dawned 
none of the children of the Brookdale church 
had time to think about the absence of fire- 
works. 

Trunks were pulled out of forgotten cor- 
ners of the attic, and the finery of other days 
saw the light once more. Groups of lively 
children, talking over the something which 
they and no one else but Miss Lucie knew 
about, might have been seen in all sorts of 
unexpected places. Secret meetings with 
the missionary aunt were of common occur- 
rence, and during the last two weeks myste- 
rious rehearsals were held in the fine, new 


A ''Fourth’' Without Fireworks 53 

garage built for Mr. Brown’s big new tour- 
ing car, which was to arrive later. 

A few mothers were let into the secret, for 
not many plans come out well without moth- 
ers to help; but the rest could only guess, 
until the Sunday before the Fourth, when 
the announcement was made in church that 
the children of the Missionary Society would 
hold a grand Art Loan in Mr. Brown’s 
garage on the evening of the Fourth. The 
minister said that the pictures to be exhib- 
ited were very valuable and this would be 
the only chance to see them. The pictures 
were not for sale, but there would be plenty 
of ice cream and cake that could be bought. 
Everyone was urged to be on hand in good 
time, for the early-comers would get the best 
seats, which would be arranged in front of 
the garage. People who were not in the 
secret were very much mystified, you may 
be sure, and it really was surprising how 
interested everybody in Brookdale was. 

The morning of the great day dawned 
bright and beautiful. Unlike most Fourths 
of July, it never rained a drop, and the 


Lantern Stories 


54 

weather was perfectly ideal. All day long 
great preparations were going on at the 
home of the Brownies, and when the last 
thing was done, the beautiful grounds about 
the house looked like a veritable fairyland. 
Lovely lanterns of fanciful shape and bril- 
liant color gleamed through the trees, and 
banners and pennants and flags from almost 
every country anybody ever heard of, helped 
to make it all look very gay. 

You will not be surprised when I tell you 
that the lawn was covered with people that 
lovely night, and when the lanterns were 
lighted, and the lights began to twinkle 
through the trees, everyone thought there 
never had been anything so pretty. The 
wide door of the garage had been made to 
look like a great picture frame, with a cur- 
tain which lowered before it while each 
picture was being arranged. 

First, there was some beautiful music on 
the harp, for the young lady Brownie had 
come home from boarding school, and, of 
course, had been pressed into service. All 
through the evening, except when the chil- 


A ‘Tourth’' Without Fireworks 55 

dren sang, the silvery harp music rippling 
out on the evening air made the pause be- 
tween pictures seem short. 

As the first musical number ended, Jack 
Keen stepped out before the audience and 
made a speech. I couldn’t tell you all he 
said, but it was a great speech — everybody 
said so. He spoke of the Declaration of In- 
dependence and how the carrying out of its 
spirit, through blood and war, had made 
ours a free nation. Then he spoke of an 
older Declaration of Independence, one 
made long ages before that of ’76. He said 
this older Declaration of Independence was 
the Bible, and that its spirit, in spite of 
bloodshed and persecution, had given us the 
civilization which we have in the United 
States, and had broken the fetters of idol- 
worship, superstition, and cruelty in distant 
nations of the earth. 

As the curtain rolled up for the first time 
a silence came over the audience. There sat 
Don Richards, clad in the somber garments 
of a monk. He sat upon the side of the rude 
couch in his bare cell in the monastery, writ- 


Lantern Stories 


56 

ing upon a scroll. Before him stood Emily 
Drayton, as a radiant angel in glistening 
white, with arm upraised, bidding him 
write. 

Tom’s voice broke the silence by saying: 
''Caedmon, the monk, the unlettered cow- 
herd of Whitby Monastery, England, who, 
ashamed that he had not the talents of his 
fellow monks, crept to his cell. In a vision 
he was commanded by an angel to translate 
the Old Testament into the Anglo-Saxon, 
which was the language of the people. This 
he did in the seventh century, and his trans- 
lation was the beginning of the English 
Bible.” 

There was music again, and then the cur- 
tain went up for the second picture, this time 
showing Rob Townley in a bare, cell-like 
room, dressed in the coarse brown clothes 
and cowl of a monk, bending over a table on 
which were many scrolls. He was writing 
by the light of a dimly burning taper. 

Tom’s voice was heard again, saying: 
"William Tyndale, an English monk, worked 
for thirteen years under great persecution 


A ‘Tourth’’ Without Fireworks 57 

translating the Bible into English, so the 
common people could read it. He was 
hunted from city to city in Europe by wicked 
men who did not want the Bible translated, 
and was at last betrayed by a man whom 
he had thought to be his friend. After being 
in prison, where he suffered greatly for six- 
teen months, he was strangled and his body 
burned.’’ 

Then came a picture showing some stern, 
cruel-looking soldiers with swords, in the 
act of tearing a Bible from the hands of a 
young mother while two little children clung 
in terror to her skirts. 

Tom said: ‘‘So angry were the king and 
the officers of the Church, because so many 
people had copies of the Bible that William 
Tyndale translated, that the soldiers were 
ordered by the king to force their way into 
the homes of the people and search for the 
forbidden books. When found they were 
burned.” 

No wonder there were tears in the eyes of 
many who saw the picture, as the strains of 
“Nearer, My God, to Thee” upon the harp 


Lantern Stories 


58 

trembled out upon the silence, for everyone 
felt that the loving heavenly Father must 
have been very near to his children who suf- 
fered so for his sake. 

Then came a picture of Mary, queen of 
England, and her court, arrayed in gorgeous 
colors and flashing jewels. The queen stood 
upon a raised dais, and before her crouched 
two prisoners, chained together, while she 
pronounced upon them sentence of death for 
having owned Bibles. 

“During Mary's short reign of five years," 
spoke Tom, “four hundred people in Eng- 
land suffered death because they would not 
give up their Bibles. Two hundred and 
eighty-eight of these were burned at the 
stake." 

Before the next picture Tom told how im- 
possible it was for the enemies of the Book 
to destroy it, and that even under the most 
terrible persecution good men kept on 
translating and printing it. Even the poor- 
est people saved their money to buy it, farm- 
ers sometimes giving a whole load of hay for 
one small copy. 


A ''Fourth'' Without Fireworks 59 

Wherever the Bible has gone, and its 
principles have been taught, the chains of sin 
which have bound the people have been 
broken and they have been set free to live 
good lives. Particularly in heathen coun- 
tries has this been true. Nothing was 
thought of taking the lives of men, women, 
or even little children. 

Every year in Egypt, long ago, the most 
beautiful maiden in all the land was thrown 
into the River Nile as an offering to the god 
of the river. 

Slowly the curtain rose, disclosing a pic- 
ture of a motley gathering of Egyptians. 
There were black-bearded priests and 
flower-decked maidens among the throng 
who attended a beautiful girl in trailing 
white robes, flashing with jewels. Her face 
was upraised, and she held out imploring 
hands to those around, as if beseeching them 
not to throw her into the cruel waters of the 
Nile. 

Tom spoke again : "They called the 
maiden who was sacrificed 'The Bride of 
the Nile.' " Some one back in the darkness. 


6o Lantern Stories 

accompanied by the harp’s sweet tones, sang 
very softly, 

'‘Sing them over again to me, 
Wonderful words of life.” 

Then the explanation went on : "In the 
heathen countries, where God’s Word is not 
known or taught, the sick are left uncared 
for, little children being sometimes left lying 
in the streets to die alone. The missionaries 
from our own and other countries have gone 
to tell the people of God’s great Declaration 
of Independence in his Word, and when they 
learn of it all this is changed and they are 
indeed set free from these dreadful prac- 
tices.” 

Then the curtain went up. On a low cot 
lay a sick child. At the foot stood a group 
of Chinese women, watching anxiously an 
American missionary doctor, who bent over 
the child, counting her pulse, with his watch 
in hand. 

Tom spoke once more, saying: "In these 
far-off lands there are few schools, and even 
to them the girls cannot go. The Bible has 


A '‘Fourth’' Without Fireworks 6i 

taught the people that God loves all alike, 
and many schools have been founded by the 
missionaries, who themselves gather in the 
children and teach them.” 

A little pause, and then the curtain rose 
again. Miss Lucie herself was seated upon 
a low stool, surrounded by a dozen or more 
little Hindu widows — wee tots from six to 
ten years old, dressed in their white saris — 
who sat upon the floor. Miss Lucie was 
looking at them with a great love in her eyes, 
while she taught them from the Bible, which 
was open in her hands. 

The picture really needed no explanation, 
for all knew its title must be, "A Missionary 
Teaching the Children.” Now, Miss Lucie 
had been born in Brookdale, and there were 
many people there that night who had 
known her since she was a little girl, so 
everybody clapped and clapped when they 
saw her as she looked when she was really at 
work among the children of far-away India. 

The minister stood up now, and thanked 
everybody for coming to encourage the chil- 
dren. He thanked the missionary aunt for 


62 


Lantern Stories 


directing this beautiful picture gallery, and 
said that the hearts of all the people were 
with her in her work of love. Last of all he 
told how in the dark days of the Revolution, 
in the year 1777, the Continental Congress 
imported twenty thousand Bibles at a large 
cost to be distributed among the colonies, be- 
cause they were sure that reading it would 
help them to be brave and true. 

The curtain rose slowly and a soldiers’ 
camp was seen. The dying embers (ar- 
ranged with an electric light and some shiny 
red paper) shed a glow upon a number of 
Continental soldiers who lay on the ground 
with their muskets beside them. Some were 
asleep. A sentry to the left leaned upon his 
gun, and a boyish figure knelt near the fire, 
poring over a book which he held down close 
to the light. He was reading the Bible. 
From the distance came a chorus of chil- 
dren’s voices singing: 

‘'Tell me the story of Jesus, 

Write on my heart every word, 

Tell me the story most precious. 
Sweetest that ever was heard.” 


A ‘‘Fourth'' Without Fireworks 63 

Then slowly, over the camp, unseen 
fingers ran up an American flag and in an- 
other instant a second went fluttering up 
until it hung suspended above the first. The 
second was a pennant of white with a blue 
cross upon it. 

And the minister's voice spoke in the hush, 
saying, “The Word of God shall indeed 
triumph, and the kingdoms of this world 
shall become the kingdoms of our Lord and 
his Christ!" 

And when all was over, the people gone, 
and the last lantern burned out, there were 
many happy children in Brookdale that 
night whose last thought as they laid their 
tired heads upon their pillows was that, after 
all, this Fourth of July without fireworks 
had been the very best they had ever held. 


TIGHT MONEY 


TELL you, Rob, it’s in tight!” 
Two curly heads and two very 
red faces were bending over a 
crack in the board walk which led 
into the garden, and four chubby brown 
hands worked and worked over a shiny 
something that was wedged into this crack, 
whose rim could barely be seen. 

‘Tt’s in as tight as can be,” repeated Bob 
as she straightened herself and looked rue- 
fully down at her toes, ‘‘and I don’t believe 
we’ll ever get it out.” 

Robert and Robertina were twins, but 
they were called Rob and Bob for short, and 
some folks could hardly tell them apart. Of 
course they were always together, and their 
mother made their clothes as nearly alike as 
boys’ and girls’ clothes can be made. Once 
when Rob tore his blouse and had to have it 
patched. Bob cried so because she hadn’t a 
patch that grandma put one on in the exact 
64 




Tight Money 65 

spot where Rob had his. Then they were 
both happy. 

But on this sunny day in June the twins 
were in trouble. A shiny penny was on its 
way to the mite box in the nursery when it 
slipped out of Rob’s fat fingers and rolled 
into that dreadful crack. It was just as Bob 
was saying that she didn’t believe they would 
ever get it out that Rob thought of some- 
thing! It was the very thin knife that he 
had seen in Mary’s kitchen drawer. In less 
time than it takes to tell it, he was flat on his 
stomach by the board walk, his arm up 
under a loose board, and pushing from 
underneath with Mary’s paring knife. In 
fact he pushed so hard that the penny flew 
right up into Bob’s face as she leaned over 
to look. 

Now, you must know that the Children’s 
Missionary Society in the church where the 
twins went were to have a party — such a 
splendid party — out on the lawn under the 
trees. The mite boxes were to be opened, 
and a whole crowd of new babies were com- 
ing. Miss Rayton, who had charge, was 


66 


Lantern Stories 


trying very hard to get all the wee folks in 
the church into her circle, and just as Bob 
and Rob danced by the library door on the 
way from the nursery, whom should they 
hear talking to their mother but Miss Ray- 
ton herself! She had just been calling on 
Mrs. Gray, who, with her husband and little 
daughter, had lately moved into the great 
house across the street. 

"'Of course Mrs. Gray was very polite 
when I asked for Elenore’s name,^' Miss 
Rayton was saying, "but she said she 
thought a child of five too young to belong 
to a missionary society, and there the matter 
ended.'' 

It was just at that minute that Brother 
Donald came in from the tennis court, his 
sleeves rolled up and his cap on the back of 
his head, and he heard what Miss Rayton 
said about the wealthy Mrs. Gray across 
the street. Donald laughed as he swung 
through the hall, saying laughingly over his 
shoulder, "Why, Miss Rayton, probably she 
can't pay the dues! Money's tight, you 
know !" 


Tight Money 


67 

Bob had heard enough! She was very 
solemn when she and Rob started for the 
sand pile. She felt very sorry for that poor 
Mrs. Gray whose money was ‘"tight.’’ ‘T 
wonder,” she said, after she had explained 
to Rob that the new girl across the street 
couldn’t belong to the missionary society 
because her mother’s money was tight so her 
dues couldn’t be paid, ‘T wonder if it rolled 
into a crack in her board walk?” 

There was an excited consultation with 
the curly heads very close together, and five 
minutes later two sturdy little figures 
trudged across the street and rang the bell 
at the front door of the big house. The 
black butler with shiny brass buttons on his 
coat rather took their breath, but they gath- 
ered courage when he showed his white 
teeth in a grin, and followed him over the 
soft rugs where they couldn’t hear them- 
selves walk, into the big sunshiny room 
where Mrs. Gray sat with her fancywork. 

Mrs. Gray did look a little surprised when 
she saw Rob and Bob, but she held out her 
hands and went toward them saying: “Why, 


68 


Lantern Stories 


how do you do? You are the twins from 
across the street, aren’t you ? Of course you 
have come over to see Elenore, and we are as 
glad as can be. We have wished and wished 
that you would come — ” 

But pretty Mrs. Gray stopped suddenly 
when she noticed the look on Bob’s face, and 
then she grew puzzled as Bob, with very red 
cheeks and a gulp or two, began by telling 
how Donald had said that Elenore couldn’t 
be a missionary child because her mother’s 
money was tight — that theirs had been tight 
too, in a crack in the board walk, but that 
they had gotten it out with Alary’s kitchen 
knife — and that they had brought the knife 
over and would help her get her money out 
of the crack too! Then Elenore could be- 
long and go to the party! 

Mrs. Gray flushed a little as the tale ended, 
and then she sank into a big chair and 
laughed and laughed. And little golden- 
haired Elenore, who had listened with 
wonderment to Bob, laughed too. Then the 
twins joined in, although they hadn’t the 
least idea what they were laughing at. But 


Tight Money 


69 

before they went home Mrs. Gray knew a 
great deal more about the children in far- 
away countries, and those in this who are 
trying to help them, than she had ever 
known in all her life, and had begun to look 
quite interested in it all. 

Miss Rayton was just leaving when the 
twins reached their gate, but she stopped as 
Rob and Bob ran toward her, crying, breath- 
lessly: ‘'Elenore's going to belong too. Miss 
Rayton! She’s going to be a Life Member 
like we are — her mother said sol And her 
mother’s money isn’t tight at all — and she is 
going to bring Elenore to the party !” 

The twins were rather mystified when 
their mother explained to them at bedtime 
about the ‘'tight money.” That it did not 
mean it was caught in a crack or anything 
like that, but only that lots of people couldn’t 
get any work, and so they had to save all the 
money they could, and be careful how they 
spent it. Mrs. Gray was a very wealthy 
woman, and, of course. Brother Donald was 
only joking when he said her money was 
“tight.” 


70 


Lantern Stories 


“Any way, five-year-old twins can’t be 
expected to know everything,” murmured 
Rob, after mother had kissed them and gone 
downstairs. “And big boys like Donald do 
say such funny things,” said Bob, sleepily. 
“But aren’t we glad Elenore is going to be- 
long to our Circle, and that we — can spend 
the — day with her — to-morrow ?” 


WHAT THE MAN FROM CHINA 
SAID 


Part I 

missionary meeting for me to- 
ay, Aunt Sue/’ laughed Jack 
)ean, as he threw his cap in the 
air, and then caught it on the top 
of his own brown pate. ‘‘Basket ball game 
with the Academy fellows — though, of 
course, Fd go for you if I could.” 

The twinkle in Jack’s eyes and the peculiar 
grin on his freckled face rather detracted 
from the force of the closing part of his 
speech to Aunt Sue. 

Aunt Sue presided over Jack’s father’s 
house, because the little mother had passed 
out of it years before into the one “not made 
with hands” in heaven. Moreover, this 
same Aunt Sue knew boys, and she really 
didn’t wonder that as between basket ball 
71 



Lantern Stories 


72 

and a missionary meeting the latter didn’t 
stand the ghost of a chance! 

“Well, anyway, Jackie, dear” — that was 
a privilege accorded no one but Aunt Sue, 
you may be sure — “the missionary who is 
going to talk this time is a man ; and another 
thing is he’s from China, very near where 
Aunt Myrtle is; and another thing is he’s 
been everywhere and seen most everything, 
and—” 

But Jack was already down the stoop, and 
on the street. He hadn’t gone so far, 
though, that he didn’t hear Aunt Sue call 
out, as she waved at him from the door, 
“Hope your team will beat. Jack.” 

And the boy chuckled under his breath 
to himself, “Well, she certainly is the right 
sort!” and was soon out of sight. 

Later in the day the triumphant team, of 
which Jack Dean was one, flushed with 
victory over the “Academy fellows,” and 
breathing out slaughter in anticipation of 
the return game which was to be played the 
next week, parted at the corner just above 
the church, and Jack went swinging down 


The Man from China 73 

the street alone toward home. He involun- 
tarily stopped when he noticed the church 
door open, and then his eyes fastened them- 
selves to the bulletin board outside, which 
read: ''Come In! A man from China will 
talk here at 4 o’clock.’’ 

"Queer way to advertise a missionary 
meeting,” grinned Jack. "Sounds like Aunt 
Sue herself, and I’ll bet she’s responsible. 
It’s considerably after four o’clock, but I’ll 
just surprise the lady when I get home by 
telling her that I too heard the 'Man from 
China’ talk. She’ll be somewhere up in the 
amen corner, and she’ll never see me on the 
back seat. Here goes 1” 

And in he went, notwithstanding the fact 
that his face was delightfully streaked with 
dirt from the floor of the gymnasium, and 
his hair in exactly the condition in which the 
last scrimmage had left it. 

The missionary from China was just fin- 
ishing his talk as Jack slipped in. The large 
room was full of people, and everything was 
still with that intent stillness which always 
comes when many people listen. Jack was 


74 


Lantern Stories 


vainly trying to decide over the top or at the 
side of a hat of huge proportions directly in 
front of him, whether he really did see Aunt 
Sue up front, when all of a sudden the ''Man 
from China’’ said something that made him 
forget Aunt Sue, and the big hat, and, for 
the moment, everything else. 

What the speaker said was this: "One 
may feel proud to stand in the presence of 
kings ; one may be elated over winning great 
honors in the world of politics ; one may feel 
gratified over achievements in the sciences 
or arts, so that a great university points with 
pride to your name; moments of exaltation 
come to all of us over attainments greater or 
less ; but I want to tell you who listen to me 
to-day, that while to me as to you have come 
moments of rejoicing over human successes, 
the very proudest moment in all my life was 
the first time I was able to tell in Chinese the 
story of Jesus and his love so that it could be 
understood by a poor old woman who had 
never heard it before, and who was in deep 
sorrow and need.” 

Jack didn’t hear anything more the "Man 


The Man from China 75 

from China’’ said after that. The meeting 
closed very soon, but that last thing the 
missionary had said about his ‘‘proudest 
moment” kept saying itself over and over 
again through Jack’s head until he really 
thought others besides himself must hear it. 

He found out some things that evening 
about the “Man from China.” He was the 
president of a great school in Foochow. He 
really had stood in the courts of kings. He 
could speak fluently in nine languages; he 
had degrees from several great universities, 
and the President of the United States had 
entertained him on more than one occasion 
at the White House. 

Then Jack thought of the missionary’s 
“proudest moment.” He thought too of his 
own. He remembered his first pocket knife, 
his first pair of racing skates; the morn- 
ing his father opened the French window 
in the breakfast room, and he saw Granger, 
his own pony, for the first time, standing 
waiting for him in the driveway outside. 
Jack wondered if anyone ever could feel 
more proud than he had when his team beat 


76 Lantern Stories 

the Academy boys at basket ball that very 
day! 

Yet the ‘‘Man from China/’ with all his 
great experiences, had said what he did 
about telling a miserable old Chinese woman 
about Jesus! Jack fell asleep thinking and 
wondering about it. 

And the next morning he awoke to a day 
in comparison to which all of the exciting 
days of his life up to that time had not been 
a circumstance. 


Part II 

Telegram number one arrived early in the 
morning, before the servants even were stir- 
ring. It came from the great business firm 
in New York of which Jack’s father was a 
partner. And the first message was fol- 
lowed by another and another. To all of 
which Mr. Dean sent replies, while Jack kept 
his eye upon things, wondering what mo- 
mentous happenings were in the wind now. 
That they were momentous, the lad knew by 
the look in his father’s face, and when, 
toward evening. Jack was called into the 


The Man from China 77 

library he went on a jump, for he did want 
to know what it was all about, and he knew 
now he was going to find out. 

‘‘Well, Jack, old man, what do you say to 
going to China with me?'' was the way his 
father hailed Jack as he made way with a 
pile of time tables and schedules of ships' sail- 
ings, so that Jack could sit in his own place 
on the arm of the big chair. 

And then before Jack had caught his 
breath enough to say anything in reply to 
such an astonishing question, Mr. Dean 
went on to explain: “You see it's this way, 
my boy. Some member of the firm is needed 
over there to adjust some of our business 
affairs right away, and every one else is so 
tied up just now he can't get away. So, as 
you fellows would say. Jack, ‘It's up to us,' 
for of course, laddie" — and Mr. Dean's voice 
was very tender — “you and dad couldn't 
have the wide ocean rolling between us for 
six months." 

No need to tell what Jack said. In fact, 
he said so many things, and he said them so 
fast, and he asked so many questions, that 


78 Lantern Stories 

this story would be very, very long if they 
should all be put down for you to read. 

You would hardly believe it, but exactly 
three days after that first telegram arrived 
steamer trunks were packed, a dear friend 
of Aunt Sue’s was on the way from a distant 
city to stay in the big house with her until 
the two travelers were back, and reserva- 
tions for staterooms had been made on the 
Empress of China, sailing from San Fran- 
cisco for Hongkong. In fact, one would 
hardly imagine so many things could be 
thought out and arranged in such an incred- 
ibly short time, and two people actually 
started on a journey that was not to be 
ended until thousands of miles had been 
traveled. 

Jack had never been at sea before, and 
everything about the ship from bow to stern, 
from the wireless apparatus high up in the 
rigging down to the monster engines that 
kept pounding away down in the darkness 
underneath, was simply overflowing with 
interest. Although often to an ordinary 
traveler a voyage across the Pacific is long 


The Man from China 79 

enough to be a bit irksome, to Jack the days 
flew by on wings. He and his father had 
many a bout at shuffle-board, up on the shin- 
ing white floor of the hurricane deck. Some 
days there were games and contests of vari- 
ous sorts in which the passengers took part, 
and on one of these occasions Jack found 
himself the proud possessor of a new pearl- 
handled pocket knife as a prize for ‘^chalking 
the pig’s eye” most nearly in the correct 
place. 

The voyage was over at last, though, and 
the days that followed, in the great seaport 
city of Hongkong, were so different from 
any that had ever fallen to Jack’s lot before 
that he felt like the old lady in the nursery 
rhyme who said: 'Tawk a-mercy on us! 
This is never 1 1” 

There is no time here to tell about the 
queer sights and the queerer sounds that 
were met on every hand. That would be 
another story all to itself. But, after weeks 
of sight-seeing in many strange places, Mr. 
Dean and Jack were finally on their way to 
the interior of the country where the dear 


8o 


Lantern Stories 


Aunt Myrtle, the little mother’s own sister, 
had been teaching in a Chinese girls’ school 
for years. And this stage of the journey 
was the most unusual of all. Part of the 
time it was on a funny-looking craft called a 
''houseboat,” with coolies running along the 
river bank and occasionally pulling the boat 
ahead by long ropes. Jack thought he never 
knew of anything funnier than hearing the 
Chinese boatmen whistling for a breeze! 
Part of the way the two travelers were 
carried in chairs, and some of the time they 
walked. Once they had to get down from 
the chairs and crawl across a stream on 
great stones which had once been the sup- 
ports of a bridge that had long since disap- 
peared. Jack kept wondering if Aunt 
Myrtle had to do all these things when she 
went to her school. He found out afterward 
that she did. 

But the end of the six days’ journey came 
at last, and the sight of Aunt Myrtle’s dear 
face bending over the teacups at her own 
little tea table as those three sat around it 
when night fell, was quite enough to have 


The Man from China 8i 

repaid a boy for coming thousands of miles 
to see. 

And how very lucky that they happened to 
arrive that day of all others ! For to-morrow 
was to be one of the great kite-flying days, 
when hundreds of men, some of them old 
men, and boys would go out on the hills 
lying outside the city gate and fly those 
wonderful kites which Jack had heard about 
all his life. Jack inwardly thought that to 
see a really old man flying a kite would cer- 
tainly be a sight! And he also resolved to 
get near enough to see those kites, made to 
look like people and animals and fish, and 
make some himself when he got back home. 

No one in the inclosure — called a '‘com- 
pound’’ — where the school was and where 
Aunt Myrtle lived, was stirring at the early 
hour the next morning when Jack awoke. 
In fact, it was barely daylight when, jump- 
ing out of bed, he suddenly decided to get 
into his clothes and cast his eye about out- 
side for a glimpse of an overenthusiastic 
kite-flyer, who might have got up as early as 
himself. 


82 


Lantern Stories 


The old gate-keeper was nodding out his 
morning nap as Jack slipped by and went at 
a brisk pace down the street. The school 
being very near the city wall, it was only 
the matter of a few minutes till Jack found 
himself on the highway outside. No one 
seemed to be abroad as early as he, and 
never a speck in the sky that in the least re- 
sembled a kite could he see. On he went, 
however, thinking that the low hills to the 
left of the road just ahead might be possi- 
bilities as the rendezvous of kite-flyers. The 
day was evidently going to be a gray one. 
In fact. Jack felt a drop or two of rain on his 
nose every now and then. He really hadn't 
any idea how far he had trudged — he hadn’t 
come to the hills yet — when not far ahead of 
him out of the low shrubs that sprawled 
along one side of the narrow, crooked road, 
a little, shadowy figure crept timidly forth. 
Jack could see it was a little Chinese woman, 
very meanly dressed, and holding in her 
arms a small bundle of rags. The figure 
sped on down the road a bit further to 
where the way narrowed into not much 


The Man from China 83 

more than a footpath with the growth of 
scraggly shrubbery on both sides. Jack hur- 
ried too when he saw the woman run, and 
stopped, hidden in the brush very near her 
as she knelt down in the road, kissing over 
and over again the little dirty bundle of rags. 
The little bundle of rags was crying — at 
least something inside of it was — and every 
time the woman laid it down and started 
away it cried louder. Then she would come 
back, and pick up the pitiful little bundle, 
and hold it close in her arms, while she 
moaned and sobbed, rocking to and fro there 
on her knees in the gray morning light. 

Then Jack understood. He knew enough 
about Chinese ways to comprehend that the 
poor little mother was trying to leave her 
girl baby there in the road, either to be 
picked up by some passer-by, which was not 
likely, or to die there alone, because no little 
girl baby was wanted in that family by the 
father. 

Jack was peering out at all this from his 
hiding-place in the brush, with his eyes 
nearly starting from his head. The next 


84 Lantern Stories 

minute the Chinese mother had hugged the 
crying bundle in her arms once more, had 
laid it down again, and was running as fast 
as she could down the road. 

Jack never knew exactly how it all hap- 
pened. He only knew that the baby must 
not lie there in the road alone. So he picked 
it up — it was very tiny as he felt it in his 
strong young arms — and then he was off like 
the wind after the runaway mother. 

Although the lad had always been ac- 
counted quite a sprinter in the school races, 
the little Chinese woman led him a brisk 
chase over the rough, uneven road. Jack 
didn't have time to think whether he was 
carrying the bundle in the most approved 
style. Once or twice a little black head 
bobbed, or wabbled, but it got back into cover 
again somehow, and Jack sped on. 

He caught her at last, the poor little 
woman — caught her by her outer garment, 
and held on tight while she tried her best 
to get away. The bundle began to cry again, 
and Jack, forgetting that the woman couldn’t 
understand one word he was saying, was 


The Man from China 85 

telling her how cruel and wicked it was to 
leave her very own little baby in the road to 
starve to death. ‘‘And besides/’ he went on, 
talking so excitedly and fast that anyone 
would have had a hard time to understand, 
“Jesus loves girls every bit as well as boys. 
He said, ‘Suffer the little children,’ and that 
means both, you know. Didn’t you ever 
hear of Jesus, and don’t you know he wants 
mothers to keep their babies ? He loves the 
poor mothers, too, like you.” 

Suddenly Jack remembered something. 
He recalled the “Man from China,” and 
what he said in the old home church so far 
away about the proudest, happiest moment 
of his life being when he told an old Chinese 
woman who was in great trouble that Jesus 
loved her. Why, Jack was doing that very 
thing himself — only the woman wasn’t old, 
and Jack wasn’t talking Chinese! 

He had never felt so strangely stirred in 
his life before. He thought for a minute he 
was going to cry. The idea of Jack Dean 
crying! Then he knew he must make the 
Chinese mother know what he meant. 


86 


Lantern Stories 


She was holding the bundle now, and was 
rocking it back and forth, and making a low, 
crooning sound exactly like Jack had heard 
American mothers make over their babies. 
He was afraid to loosen his hold of the 
woman. And then a happy thought came to 
him ! If only he could get her to go back to 
the school with him. Aunt Myrtle could 
speak to her in Chinese and that would be 
almost like telling her himself. 

And strange to say the woman went with 
him. Perhaps his glowing face told her 
there was hope and help for her where he 
was leading. Anyway, they trudged back 
again, the three, over the stony road, the 
mother with the little dirty bundle, and Jack 
Dean. 

Aunt Myrtle and Mr. Dean were at the 
gate, looking very anxiously down the street 
as the dust-covered trio appeared. Aunt 
Myrtle was one of that kind of people who 
just seem to understand things without 
much being said, and she knew the whole 
story in a twinkling. 

Jack told his part to his father while the 


The Man from China 87 

runaway mother, between sobs, was telling 
Aunt Myrtle hers. It was an old one to the 
missionary, but when it was finished. Jack’s 
father, big six-footer that he was, was wip- 
ing his eyes, and Jack’s eyes were misty too 
as he said: ‘Tlease, Aunt Myrtle, can’t we 
— I mean you — take the baby into your 
school? Father and I will pay all it costs to 
keep her always — and I wouldn’t mind hav- 
ing a sister, even if she is a Chinese one 
and—” 

‘That’s right, my man,” said Mr. Dean, as 
his arm went around Jack’s shoulder; “you 
and I will stand by this kiddie. She’s ours 
from now.” 

And when the little Chinese mother 
dropped down on her knees at the boy’s feet, 
and rained kisses and tears upon his hands 
for saving her baby. Jack Dean thought 
again of the “Man from China,” and he 
knew that no matter how long he should live, 
or what great things might ever come to 
him, this would always linger in his mem- 
ory as the gladdest, proudest moment of 
his life. 


TWO LITTLE GIRLS AND A DOLL 


ffl AROLYN ROBERSON’S grand- 
mother always said that she was 
the very wiggliest grandchild in 
the whole family connection. 

Edith Thompson, Carolyn’s cousin, of 
about the same age, was always called ‘‘so 
ladylike” by everyone. The big bow of wide 
ribbon that perched on the top of her head 
to adorn the “Dutch cut” was always so 
proper, and stood at exactly the right angle ! 
Her white stockings were always clean — - 
indeed poor little wiggly Carolyn used to 
wonder if they ever had to be washed ! 
Edith’s behavior was perfect. Everybody 
said so. 

Folks used to say when they saw Carolyn 
with tumbled hair, ribbon untied or missing 
altogether, apron, which in some strange 
way had been decorated with sundry spots 
of black, face flushed, and breathless from 
88 


Two Little Girls and a Doll 89 

running, ‘'How very unlike those two 
cousins are 

But one sorry day poor little Carolyn was 
proper enough, as far as moving around was 
concerned. She lay on her little white bed 
up in her very own blue and white room, and 
when she tried to wiggle even her toe she 
squealed right out loud, and two big tears 
rolled down her poor little face and dropped 
on the pillow. 

When the doctor came — the dear old 
white-haired doctor who had helped Carolyn 
through measles, and chickenpox, and no 
end of other things — he sat down by the 
white bed and looked at the little girl, and 
then he said, “Rheumatism.’’ 

That sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it? And 
just let me tell you, it’s a lot worse than it 
sounds, which is saying a good deal. Car- 
olyn said it felt like pins and needles, and 
burrs and stickers, and everything else you 
can think of that’s prickly, all busy at once. 

Anybody would think that all that pain, 
and not being able to move her arms or feet, 
would be quite enough for a little girl to 


Lantern Stories 


90 

bear, without having something perfectly 
lovely happen, in which she couldn’t have a 
part because she had the rheumatism and 
had to lie in a white bed and not be able to 
even wiggle. 

Now, you must know that Carolyn be- 
longed to a missionary society, which was 
going to send a splendid box of beautifully 
dressed dolls way over to India, so that some 
other little girls, who were very poor and 
wretched there, could each have one for 
Christmas. It was decided the very day 
Carolyn got sick. And to think what it 
would mean to have to lie in bed when every- 
one else would be busy helping to dress those 
dolls and not be able to do one little thing 
herself ! The doctor had told Carolyn every 
time he came how brave and patient she was, 
but when this blow came it must be confessed 
that the embroidered pillow slips which Aunt 
Mary had sent her for Christmas were actu- 
ally damp from the tears poor Carolyn 
couldn’t help shedding. 

What ever should we do without mothers ! 
They always know such good ways out of 


Two Little Girls and a Doll 91 

troubles, and Carolyn’s mother was like all 
the rest (only nicer, of course), you may be 
sure. The afternoon of the very day Car- 
olyn first heard of the missionary box this 
delightful mother put on her wraps, and 
with that kind of a look in her eyes which 
Carolyn knew meant something beautiful 
she told the little girl she was going shop- 
ping for just a little while. 

Carolyn almost forgot she had the rheuma- 
tism while her mother was gone, she was so 
excited over wondering what the surprise 
was to be. But it must be said that she did 
get a wee bit impatient toward the end of the 
waiting time. But O, joy ! she was sure that 
no one in the world except her very own 
dearest mother could have thought out any- 
thing quite so splendid ! For following close 
after the little mother an hour or so later as 
she came into the blue-and-white room came 
the maid carrying a big parcel. And when 
the big parcel was opened there were ten 
boxes, every one of them holding in dainty 
wrappings of tissue paper, a perfectly beau- 
tiful doll ! 


92 


Lantern Stories 


‘‘You are to pick out one dollie, dearie, for 
the box that is to go to India, and to-morrow 
Miss Ray is coming to dress her/’ 

Could anything be nicer than that, if one 
couldnt dress one of those lovely dolls one- 
self? For you must know that Miss Ray 
was a real live dressmaker, who made all the 
lovely clothes Carolyn’s mother wore, and 
the little girl was very sure her mother 
always looked prettier than any other 
mother she ever saw. 

And O, such a time as Carolyn had making 
up her mind just which of all the dolls was 
loveliest ! Supper time and sleepy time both 
came before she was quite sure that it was 
the one who looked like a “real child,” as she 
said, though her longing eyes did linger on 
one or two of the baby ones, and a French 
lady with real hair. 

With the morning came Miss Ray, who 
took her place in the low chair right by the 
white bed and spread out a bewildering 
array of all the fluffy, lacey, silky things for 
dresses that anyone could ever imagine. 
Carolyn herself made the selections, all the 


Two Little Girls and a Doll 93 

time wondering about the little girl in India 
whose Christmas gift the doll was to be, 
quite certain she would just love an Ameri- 
can doll, dressed like a real American child. 

When the day was done Carolyn's doll, 
with all her lovely outfit of pretty clothes, 
was quite ready to start on the long journey 
in the box which was going to India. And a 
day or two later when the box was packed 
Carolyn's doll, with a little card with Caro- 
lyn's own name written on it, pinned to its 
dress, went with the rest. 

Carolyn herself was as lively and wiggly 
as she had ever been before she knew there 
was such a thing as rheumatism, long before 
the doll with the card pinned to its dress 
reached India. 

And through the long summer days after 
the box had gone — for it had to be sent 
months before the snow began to fly again 
if it arrived in time for Christmas — Carolyn 
very often thought of those other girls in 
far-away India, and which particular one 
would be the adopted mother of her doll. 

So much for the first little girl. 


94 Lantern Stories 

The other one lived in the strange, beauti- 
ful country to which Carolyn’s doll traveled 
in the missionary box. She was a little 
Hindu girl with a brown skin and straight 
black hair, and was nine years old. She 
had no father, and her mother, whom she 
loved dearly, was very, very poor. She 
would walk through the streets of the city 
where she lived and ask people whom she 
saw buying things at the shops and bazaars 
to let her carry the articles home for them. 
She got only two cents for walking a whole 
mile, so you can see how hard it was for her 
to make enough money to buy bread. The 
mother and her little daughter had not even 
a house to live in, but stayed under a big 
tree, sleeping on the ground. One morning 
when the missionary went to one of the 
schools where little Hindu children came to 
learn about Jesus, she found this mite of a 
girl shivering in the cold — for you must 
know that even in India the early morning 
wind is keen — with no clothing on her half- 
starved body but a small piece of cotton 
cloth. She was trying to learn to read. 


Two Little Girls and a Doll 95 

After a few days the little girhs mother 
came to the school too, and together they 
learned to love Jesus. They were anxious to 
be baptized, to show that they would never 
worship idols any more, and begged the mis- 
sionary teacher to have a minister come to 
do this. But when their relatives heard 
about it they told them that if they prayed to 
Jesus and turned from idols, they would beat 
them, hurt them in every way they could, 
and perhaps kill them. So the mother was 
afraid to allow herself and her little girl to 
be baptized, although they both loved Jesus, 
and would always try to serve him. Isn't 
it sad to think that there is any place where 
little children are not allowed to love our 
dear Jesus? 

When Christmas came the missionary re- 
membered the box that had come from 
America, and when it was opened and she 
saw the beautiful doll with a card on which 
Carolyn's name was written pinned to it, 
she couldn't help thinking right away about 
the dear little Hindu girl in the Poona school 
who was always hungry and had no house to 


Lantern Stories 


96 

live in, and yet who wanted to love Jesus. 
The missionary knew that never in all her 
life had she even seen a doll, so she took Car- 
olyn’s, with other kinds of presents, and 
went to school. Don’t you wish we could 
have seen the little Hindu girl’s black eyes 
sparkle when that lovely doll was put into 
her arms? I am sure her face just shone, 
and I think when she went to bed under the 
big tree that night the dollie Carolyn sent 
was close beside her. 

Aren’t you glad that you were born in 
Christian America, where ’most all little girls 
have dollies, and where no one tries to keep 
us from loving Jesus ? 


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